


Intrusive

by orchidbreezefc



Category: Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Telepathy, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evan has a crush on Quentin. As if there's any way Quentin <i>wouldn't</i> be listening to every masturbation fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intrusive

**Author's Note:**

> Partially for Zee, who wanted more fic of Quentin masturbating; also partially for Glynn, who drew [this beautiful thing](http://kawaiisharkporn.tumblr.com/post/65934358846/) that I have been in love with ever since I saw it. Trans!Quentin for me, because I dig that. And mostly for the fandom, because we just need more stuff. All I write is oneshots, but I feel I should contribute just the same.

Quentin has known about Evan's feelings for some time already. Of course he has. How could he not? He's always in someone's head--'hypervigilant' they say when they shake their heads at him, 'a nosy little fuck' when they snarl. Nobody can shield all the time. Nobody can hide from him. Least of all obvious Evan with his longing looks and wistful but momentary twists of the mouth. With his eyes dropping to Quentin's ass and then away again, faintly turning blue in the cheeks as he berates himself.

Evan is plagued by respect and restraint. That's what makes this moment now so delicious.

He's hesitant even in his mind--As well you should be, Quentin thinks, his mouth curving up as he sits, eyes closed and legs crossed, on his bed. Naughty thoughts like that about a telepath, did nobody warn you of the danger? But Evan doesn't know Quentin has even thought to keep an eye on him, or that he's been able to read his sexual frustration in every cramped movement of his hips and every fervent flick of his eyes, much less his mind.

Evan thinks he is lost in a sea of information Quentin would be too busy monitoring to pay any attention to somber goody-two-shoes Genesis. How surprised he would be to know his thoughts are Quentin's sole focus now. Evan's bed may as well be a stage for an audience of one as he pulls the zipper of his pants down.

Already Evan's strategising how to go about this, which fantasy to indulge. Which idea is good enough to keep him going, but can also be indulged and still leave him able to look people in the eye. Quentin suddenly regrets having already stripped down to his underwear; it occurs to him too late that he might have mirrored Evan step by step.

Evan conjures an image of Quentin, quite a good one actually--better than most people can do from memory, but of course he's been looking a lot. Affection has softened the image, diminished Quentin's awkwardly large, beak-like nose, hardened his angular but unimpressive chin. Quentin could get used to looking in this particular mirror.

Evan still can't decide on a kink or a position, so he starts with his image of Quentin naked. First Quentin is sitting, provocatively. The image is just a flash before he changes his mind, he wants to be able to see his--Quentin frowns. Right, he forgot Evan was _uninformed_.

Evan's second image, Quentin on his knees with his legs spread--wow--definitely has a penis, and to Evan's credit he didn't go too crazy with the size, but it still gives Quentin mixed feelings. He tugs at the waistband of his boxers to look at his flat crotch. Maybe he should implant a suggestion of this into Evan's head? He's not sure if he could be subtle and still make it work. He could if he was close to Evan's room, if he got dressed and went over there. Then he could just change the mind-penis to a vagina, permanently, and Evan would never even notice. But should he really waste this opportunity?

In the meantime, mind Evan has insinuated his fingers into Quentin's mouth. The image sucks them, looking up at Evan lustily. How Evan Sabahnur knows what an expression of lust looks like is beyond Quentin, but it's impressively accurate. Quentin might have to try it out in the mirror. Both of them are hard in the fantasy, and so is Evan in real life. Quentin still has time to fix the error, if he hurries--but then Evan takes the first stroke of his own dick and Quentin feels the pleasure rush through him. Quentin buckles back onto his bed, reaches into his underwear, and resolves to fix it later.

Mental Quentin is still sucking at the fingers, but he's so desperate for more he breaks out of his submissive stance to lean forward and paw at the bulge in Evan's pants. Evan retracts his fingers and fake Quentin immediately pleads, "Let me see it." (Wow, who knew Evan was into the submissive stuff too? This is pushing all of Quentin's buttons.)

The image of Quentin rubs his face shamelessly against Evan's crotch, lips a little parted in desire. He's started mouthing at the shape of it when Evan pushes him off gently; Quentin sits back on his haunches, eyes still eager. Real Quentin has two fingers two knuckles deep inside himself before he knows it.

Mental Evan smiles dazzlingly, which is sort of weird; this is not Quentin's first eavesdropping and usually people pay more attention to the object of their desires and very little to what they will do to ensure that object receives them well. Maybe it's Evan's obsession with self-image? Either way, he tilts Quentin's chin up to look in his eyes while he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock.

"It's so big," mental Quentin porn-star-moans. Quentin will have to try that voice sometime. "I love it."

"You like it?" Evan's effigy asks. There's a touch of vulnerability there--all at once Quentin realises that yes, Evan is actually that big, and yes, he's a little insecure about it.

"Love it," fake Quentin insists. He starts pressing kisses down Evan's length, each one a burst of sensation. The real boys moan in unison. Quentin tilts his head against the wall behind his bed, lets heat soak his face and ears and shoulders.

The image of Quentin presses his lips to the tip and, almost by accident, his lips slip open, as if it's Evan pushing gently into Quentin's mouth, and not Quentin reaching deeper. He sucks on the head like he's trying to leach the blue out of it. Evan knots his fingers in the hair at the back of Quentin's head--real Quentin gasps--and does this time push into Quentin's mouth.

It's a lot for him to handle, even with a nonexistent gag reflex--how did Evan know about that?--but he swallows around him, making both Evans shiver, and acclimates. His hand covers the bit of Evan's length that he couldn't take in if he tried. Evan pulls back, gives mind Quentin a moment to breathe, and then pushes back in again. He repeats the action again, faster. And again.

The Quentin sitting in his room is gasping for air. He fucks himself with his fingers at half the tempo Evan jerks his cock. One stroke of the cock and one stroke back to the base is one thrust in; the next stroke up and back are the pull out. Quentin had expected candles and rose petals, and here Evan is fucking his throat. Quentin strains into his own touch; his head swims. All he can think about is how much he wants this to be real.

It's unhelpful when Evan's fantasy stutters. He gets a little muddled by the sticky heat of it all; the detail of the scene he built is obscured by the thought of Quentin's lips. Quentin isn't bothered too much; he's finding it a little tough to focus too. He's never had anyone hot for him like this. It's amazing.

Evan's orgasm, when it comes all too soon, pushes Quentin over the edge. They share a moment of complete bliss, and then both sit back to catch their breath.

Evan mops himself up with more than a few napkins. That's environmentally unfriendly, you jackass, Quentin thinks hazily. Then he notices Evan is feeling unsatisfied; he listlessly stares at his lamp. He'd hoped this would ease his desire for Quentin, but now it's worse than ever.

Quentin decides something ought to be done about that.

**Author's Note:**

> Edits: changed the colour Evan turns when he's embarrassed; clarified that the reason Quentin would go close to Evan's room was for finer telepathic control; grammar tweaks


End file.
